Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]
Chapter 203: part4

Chapter 203: part4

He couldn’t speak.

Not a single word would come out.

He couldn’t speak.

Not a single word would come out.

It wasn’t just his hands that trembled—it was everything, even deep inside his body.

Every part of him shook so violently that he couldn’t even move properly.

Maybe Sylas sensed it, because for once, he didn’t try to hold Rocco back.

Sylas, who would normally never let him go, gently set him down.

It was proof that even he understood where Rocco’s priorities lay.

Rocco took a step forward in silence, and Ares smiled in satisfaction.

His outstretched hand reached toward Rocco’s—

And in that precise moment, it happened.

A large figure suddenly appeared behind Ares, as if materializing from thin air.

The sensation was exactly the same as when Sylas and Mahmoud had shown up out of nowhere earlier.

Before anyone could even react, the archer’s voice rang out in alarm.

"My lord—!"

And then, out of the void, Mahmoud emerged—delivering a crushing blow to the back of Ares’s head.

"Wha—?!"

For the first time, Ares’s ever-present smirk disappeared.

His face twisted with shock and panic.

A moment later, the delayed force of the strike hit him, and in slow motion, he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

The archer rushed forward, immediately grabbing Ares and dragging him toward the corner of the room, putting distance between them and Rocco’s group.

Rocco, who had been standing there in stunned silence, finally snapped out of his daze.

His head whipped around as his brain scrambled to process what had just happened.

What the hell was that?!

Mahmoud, who had been standing beside Sylas just moments ago, was no longer there.

Instead, he was positioned exactly where he had attacked Ares, still exuding that same air of lazy indifference.

"W-What... what the hell was that?! Mamoth! Mamoth?!"

"Calm down. And it’s Mahmoud."

Rocco flailed wildly in Sylas’s arms, his mind spinning in confusion.

Seeing him like that, Mahmoud let out a long, tired sigh, his expression filled with exasperation.

"I told you already, stupid young master. I’m not some low-level magician. Creating clones and turning invisible? That’s basic stuff for me."

Before Rocco could even get mad at being called a "stupid young master," realization struck.

That meant...

The Mahmoud he had been with earlier—and even the Mahmoud who had appeared alongside Sylas—had both been clones?!

He had layered traps upon traps, deceiving even his own allies in the process.

"T-That’s so underhanded...! Cunning! Sneaky! A total cheat!"

"Oi, those aren’t compliments, you know."

Still red-faced from excitement, Rocco clapped his hands in awe.

However, before he could get too carried away, Mahmoud frowned and flicked his forehead with a sharp snap!

"Ow!"

Pouting as he rubbed his forehead, Rocco sulked, only for Sylas to gently pat his head in consolation.

Despite the lighthearted atmosphere between them, the air around their enemies was anything but.

It seemed that Ares had only been knocked unconscious temporarily.

His eyes snapped open in an instant, and he glared at them with a seething intensity.

If looks could kill, Rocco was sure he’d be dead on the spot.

Ares was absolutely furious.

"You insolent fools...! I am the rightful ruler of this nation! How dare you lay hands on me?!"

Ah.

So he was really mad about getting punched.

Rocco blinked up at him, watching as his face turned an even deeper shade of red in his rage.

Just moments ago, he had exuded the aura of an unstoppable final boss.

But now, throwing a tantrum like this...

It was almost childish.

And the more Rocco looked at him, the more he realized—he really did look just like him.

That playful, boyish smile from earlier... He had already thought it seemed familiar, but now?

Now he was sure.

Sylas’s words, spoken with a hint of skepticism, made Rocco’s breath hitch in surprise.

"What are you talking about? ’The rightful ruler of this nation’? You were disinherited. You have no claim to the throne. The next ruler is the Crown Prince."

Rocco had suspected it—something about Ares had reminded him of that overly timid king.

He had thought their faces looked somewhat alike...

But to think Ares was actually a royal bloodline?!

"Hah... Disinherited, you say? Don’t make me laugh. That foolish former king forcibly stripped me of my right to the throne—just because I have beastmen blood flowing through my veins!"

Ares, overcome with rage, swung his arm violently.

The archer who had been supporting him staggered as he was shoved aside, causing his hood to slip off.

Revealed beneath was the face of a man in his twenties, with sharp features and fox-like ears.

So he was a beastmen too!

"The corrupt royal family has always done this, hasn’t it? Denying the throne to anyone who isn’t fully human! How can I accept that?! I... I—!"

All the composed arrogance Ares had just moments ago was gone.

From the instant Sylas called out his true identity, he had spiraled into pure fury.

Something about his words made Rocco tilt his head in thought.

A strange feeling of unease crept up within him, growing stronger and stronger.

And, as always, he completely failed to read the mood before blurting out what was on his mind.

"Ohhh, I get it now. You just wanna be king, huh?"

He hadn’t raised his voice particularly loud, but for some reason, his words were met with absolute silence.

Ares and the archer stared at him, dumbfounded.

Behind Rocco, Sylas’s shoulders trembled—clearly trying to stifle laughter.

Even Mahmoud had a hand pressed over his mouth, barely holding back a chuckle.

Rocco blinked his eyes.

Then, seeing Ares’ face turn a dangerous shade of red, he suddenly turned paled.

Oh, crap.

He had stepped on another landmine.

"No, wait, I mean—Ares, you’re only talking about yourself. You haven’t said a single thing about your allies this whole time. You’re just mad that you couldn’t become king... That’s all you keep saying. Wait, huh?"

Rocco had no intention of angering him further—really, he didn’t!